Fallen Stars
by Ponine099
Summary: Oh, Remus, you shone the brightest of them all. But when stars fall, they are consumed by darkness.


**Round eleven QLF**

Title: Fallen stars

Team: Wasps

Position: Beater one

Prompt: a character defects from the light side to join the dark (Restriction: not Peter)

**Optional**** prompts:**

3\. (quote) My gran could do better! And she's dead! - Gordon Ramsey

14\. (emotion) anger

15\. (emotion) jealousy

_Thanks to Hemlockonium, my amazing teammate, for beta'ing._

* * *

Of the tales that were told of those terrible days, yours the darkest. Of the broken people, you the sorriest.

Oh, fallen star, shattered spirit! You deserved better. Your heart took too much pain; too many ghosts haunted it.

Do you remember still the days of your innocence? Days spent as a scared eleven-year-old passing as a normal boy for the first time in his life. Even then, having suffered, you were kind.

You were lucky then, Remus, for a light shone upon your life. That of friendship.

James Potter and Sirius Black. Oh, those kindred spirits, keepers of the flame of youth.

They took little Peter under their wing and pulled you in as well for good measure.

Friendless, sickly boys cannot complain over companionship arrangements, and in any case, you weren't too eager to let go of your new acquaintances. Their lively manner and cocky attitude attracted you in a way you didn't fully understand.

It wasn't easy, but they thrust your heart open, little by little. First they taught you to laugh, then to trust, and lastly to be loved.

Your reflection, ugly in the broken mirror of your heart, looked normal and beautiful in theirs.

And so, you were happy and peaceful for a while. Maybe in another, fairer world, you could have lived that way forever.

* * *

Remus sighed quietly, throwing himself onto his four-poster.

The dying sun shone lazily through the dorm window, bathing everything in a warm, summery light. Sirius sat cross-legged on the floor, sorting rubbish from his possessions to pack his trunk away. Usual of him, he'd left the tedious task for the very last night.

"What's the matter?" he asked, using his wand to carelessly send some books onto a pile.

Remus bit his lip for a second. He considered telling a quick lie to spare himself of the awkward conversation that was sure to come. "Nothing. Just tired."

"Come off it, Moons." Sirius frowned.

_Damn it, Padfoot_. "I... don't really want to talk about it."

"Ok," Sirius replied simply, now levitating a pair of socks. He, more than anyone, knew better than to meddle in Remus' business when his help or advice wasn't requested.

He watched Sirius sit there for a while when a wave of jealousy hit him. He was used to it, especially around his charming, good-looking, and widely-liked by peers and professors alike friend.

He suppressed the sudden urge to yell at Sirius, to berate him for having such an easy existence. He knew that would be far from fair. After all, Sirius was one of the bravest people he knew, bearing his childhood and his family the way he did.

And yet, could Sirius say he'd suffered as much as Remus had?

_"That's below the belt,"_ he thought darkly. _"Now shut up. This is supposed to be a night for celebration."_

But a heaviness settled in his chest nevertheless.

Suddenly the dorm door flung open loudly, breaking their silence.

In came James holding a bunch of Butterbeers, closely followed by Peter, both beaming.

"We're in for a good night, lads."

Remus smiled genuinely, feeling his mood lift at the sight of those manic grins, and everything else was forgotten.

It was a quiet night, by Marauder parameter. It seemed silly somehow, to spend those precious last hours as fellow students doing aught else than just being together for the pleasure of it. Talking and laughing out loud at each other's bad jokes because they could.

It would be impossible to describe those precious hours of fellowship and pure happiness, which held no record but in memories, wasted by time. Perhaps it was better that way.

When the quiet hours of the morning finally came, and the four boys lay side by side on the floor, contentment in their hearts, time seemed frozen.

"Hey, guys…" started Remus. He'd reached the moment he'd so feared about tonight and the real reason behind his bad mood.

"Don't go soapy on us now, Moony, I beg you," smirked James.

"You know me so well," he said, laughing rather forcefully. "But seriously, um, I… I wanted to thank you for all these years. For everything."

"What for, Rem? We've been there for you as much as you for us," intervened Sirius.

"You know what I mean," he said, sounding extremely serious. "You have been… so much more than a shabby werewolf could have hoped for, and so much more than friends."

"And we always will be, mate," said James, just as seriously.

"Let me finish, Prongs, for Merlin's sake. I'm saying this because I don't expect we'll hang around much from now on, and I-"

There was a general uproar at those words. Sirius and James started bickering about who of them both had given Remus such an impression, and Peter questioned what the hell was he going on about.

"Shut up, all of you!"

The three boys quieted at once. Remus almost never snapped at them.

"All I'm saying is I will understand if you don't want to keep our monthly meetings going, now that you'll all be busy with jobs and your adult lives."

"You don't seriously think you'll have to transform alone every month now, do you?" muttered Sirius.

Remus held his breath.

"Yes!" he wanted to answer. The bitter, self-loathing part of him wanted to make Sirius admit that none of them would have time for their werewolf charity case outside Hogwarts.

But the thought of making such an unfair accusation out loud repulsed him, of course. He knew his friends loved him and how much those harsh words hurt. Still, he couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness.

"Look, Rem, I don't know what made you think that," said James, eyes clouding with concern, interpreting Remus' silence as a 'yes.' "But today or twenty years from now, it'll be the Marauders against the world."

Remus nodded. And yet, he knew that wasn't quite true.

"And," added Peter quickly, almost as to make sure no one would interrupt him, "as you said, you'll be so busy with adult life you won't have time to worry about your furry little problem at all."

James and Sirius nodded in agreement.

"Oh, don't kid yourselves," Remus said uneasily, a jagged ball of anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought of the future he wished he could have but which would always be out of reach. "We all know I'll never have a shot at a normal life."

James sighed with exasperation. "We've already discussed this, Moony. No one in their right mind would deny someone with your curriculum a job. Your furry little problem will not make a damn difference."

"And if it does," piped up Sirius, "I will murder the employer with my bare hands, and then use some of my inheritance to bribe their successor or else my connections to threaten them."

"You don't have a bloody inheritance anymore, Sirius," answered Remus, though he couldn't keep a hint of amusement from his voice. "As for your connections, I would like to see your relatives defending a werewolf."

"Oh, just shut it, Remus," said Peter. "You know what he means."

In truth, he did know. He'd already used all his cards, and his friends hadn't budged for a second. He felt much lighter somehow, after putting those worries out of the way.

For a moment, their silence spoke what they couldn't or wouldn't say themselves. Words of comfort and affection.

"Now, on to a lighter subject," started Sirius, breaking the moment. "I'll give my broomstick to any of you lads that can top this magnificent Vanishing Charm." And with a wave of his wand, he made his Butterbeer bottle disappear with a faint pop. The charm was obviously wrongly cast, however, because it reappeared after a few seconds, now invisible, and shattered on the floor.

Peter roared with laughter. "My gran could do better! And she's dead!"

They all laughed, and the ghost of the somber conversation they'd just had vanished into thin air, making Remus feel as though he could burst with happiness.

* * *

Ah, Remus. So convenient and easy to hide the skeletons in the closet. You should never forget, however, that they're still there, lest you get a nasty surprise when you open the door.

Alas, you forgot. Your scars healed almost completely as the winters went by, and pampered with affection your heart grew soft and therefore frail.

You let yourself slip and get carried away by borrowed dreams; dreams of bright tomorrows and happy endings. You deserved them after all, unreal as they were.

Needless to say, such a blissful existence couldn't last for long once adulthood—as much as your childhood friends had denied it would—pushed you all apart.

Worse than time, war was another enemy to the Marauders. It corrupted all bonds of friendship, sowing mistrust and discontent even amongst the closest of people.

Such wounds ailed the five of you, Lily Evans now included.

You were left the most scarred during those days. That care your friends had so promised was neglected, and you, who had never deemed yourself worthy of it anyways, suffered in silence.

It wasn't until that terrible October night that all that pain broke you down. All you ever wanted was love, and it became your downfall.

* * *

His scream died even as it reached his throat.

The pain was too much to bear, and he'd borne some of the worst kinds before. It strangled him and tore him apart from inside.

Why? Hell, why? James and Lily…

"No, stop it. NO"

He'd read it in the Daily Prophet. Had he really learnt this from a bloody newspaper?

You should have been there, you traitor. They died, and you got the news from the morning paper.

He tore the flimsy pages apart, cursing and muttering under his breath. The main article had already been blurry with splotches here and there, tears of misery.

He let himself fall onto the hard ground. It was over. He wanted nothing but to grieve there until he perished.

And he almost did. When he had no more tears to shed, he sobbed quietly, and when he had no voice, he closed his eyes and sat in silence.

Angry. Choleric. Enraged. Livid. Mad… Remus knew a great many words for the fire burning through his veins, but none did justice to the monstrous pit of rage that threatened to swallow him whole. The object of his hatred changed from the traitor Black, to himself, to Voldemort, and sometimes even to the Potters, for departing from this cruel, painful human world and leaving him behind.

He allowed the anger to fill him up; to drown out the sadness and replace the emptiness that grief had carved into him. But the anger could not last. He was too tired and too ill, and when the fury left him, something else took its place.

Envy.

James and Lily were dead, so was Peter. They were at peace. Sirius had served his master well. He would spend the rest of his life in Azkaban, but he'd accomplished his goal and could rest now. But Remus had to go on. There would be no rest for him, no peace.

And then, when even the jealousy had passed, he felt strangely empty and terribly alone.

* * *

You wandered in darkness, between life and death for a long time. You were alone and cold. The scars of your body could have never prepared you for the scars of your soul. There was no one there this time to make them better.

You only found comfort in those of your kin, those pariahs so used to that kind of pain that they knew how to treat it. They never asked questions, and understood the hatred you'd now begun to feel towards everyone; though they interpreted it as bitterness towards wizards, bigots who shunned those with your condition.

But really, the person you hated the most was yourself. You, who had allowed yourself to be vulnerable and had suffered the consequences.

Hate, isolation, and pain. You were half-conscious of the path they were leading to but didn't find the energy to care much. So when the monster who had cursed you all those years ago came to you with an offer: to inflict on others the pain which had been inflicted on you, you accepted.

Sometimes, when the others asked about your past, you mumbled something about Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs before you could stop yourself.

_But, oh, fallen star, that was long ago._


End file.
